


Date Night

by catmiint



Category: Pretend Wizards D&D Campaign
Genre: Fake Dating, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:39:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6566479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catmiint/pseuds/catmiint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mortimer Crim hosts a dinner for troubleshooter couples, and Ragna doesn’t pick the best date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Date Night

**Author's Note:**

> this was written in forty minutes in response to a request Brittney had

Ragna wasn’t exactly sure how he ended up in this situation, his arm wrapped tight around Shira’s waist and a toothy smile plastered on his face. The suit he had bought for this occasion actually fit quite well considering his size and impressive, bulking muscles. It was probably mostly due to Dweezil’s one really wound up servant that took one look at Ragna wearing the ill-fitting suit then had several dwarves hovering around him with tape measures and pins. Lots and lots of pins.

Around him, pairs of troubleshooters buzzed around the dining room, looking at their partners with lovey eyes and blind to the other equally gushy couples. Unlike Shira, who was obviously glaring holes into the ground with unrestrained frustration. Now that he thought of it, Ragna knew how he ended up in this situation but he wasn’t sure how Shira ended up in this situation.

Mortimer Crim, only the strongest and most heroic and most handsome troubleshooter to ever lift a sword, had decided to hold a sort of dinner party, inviting couples that doubled as a troubleshooting duo. Despite Morty’s Boyz being Morty’s Boys, Crim had adamantly refused to let any of them enter without a date. And that’s where Shira had come in. It had taken several bribes to get the young noblewoman to agree, but by some act of divinity, here she was. Standing in heels that set her two inches above him. What a bitch.

Ragna glanced back to Shira, still scowling, and mumbled under his breath to her, “Gods Shira, do you have any expression besides ‘murder’?”

“I can make an expression of joy when I’m committing murder,” Shira deadpanned back, the corners of her lips quirking up slightly. She angled her head to look at Ragna, a strand of snow white hair slipping from it’s pin.

“Well, that’s a start, just pretend you’re killing the shit out of Lee Bronne,” Ragna said and then immediately regretted it upon seeing the expression that spread across Shira’s face. “Actually, why don’t you go back to the other face? Think about kicking puppies or whatever it is you do in your free time.”

She rolled her eyes and gracefully slid out of Ragna’s, probably too tight, grip around her waist. Her hips swaying, she led Ragna across the room and to their seats at the table. Slowly, everyone was migrating towards the dinner table as waiters began to pour drinks. It was a surprisingly fancy affair for one organized by Mortimer Crim. Huh, maybe Dweezil set it up.

Mortimer Crim spotted them, started to do a two finger wave with the hand clutching an overflowing stein, and then broke out into raucous laughter when he made the connection that Ragna and Shira were here together. Together together. “I never thought I’d see the day where you two mashed faces.”

Polite laughter floated around the table, and Ragna laughed along with them. Shira, on the other hand, was silently fuming as she tapped her fingernails on the table. Deciding to have a bit of fun at her expense, he laid a hand on her thigh, “Yep, never thought I’d see it either. I was pretty surprised when Lady Snow showed up on my doorstep with a bouquet of roses,” he coughed, “Stolen, of course.”

“Aw, so she had a crush on you?” Asked one gnomish troubleshooter, bright eyes sparkling with mirth.

Ragna felt Shira’s shift under his thigh and smirked lopsidedly, “Is that a knife in your pocket or are you just hap—FUCK IT’S A KNIFE”

Shira, being a woman of a variety of emotions like rage and frustration and murder, violently stood up. Her chair squeaked horrendously against the tile flooring and, before anyone could react, a dagger was lodged firmly in the mahogany table. “WHY AM I HERE WITH YOU? I HATE MEN AND PERSONALLY LOATHE YOU WITH MY ENTIRE BEING.” She only spared Ragna one last, scathing glare before she stormed out.

Ragna huffed and downed a glass on wine in one gulp, “Uh, i can stay right?“


End file.
